Guys!

Hey. I don't usually skip a day, so I can understand – for the most part – why I got the sudden influx of e-mail asking if I'd been defeated. Uh, no. Do you even read this blog? Like that's ever going to happen. Besides, if it did, in an alternate universe or something, don't you think it would be on the news? Eh? Think about it. Really think about it. I'm one of the most feared and publicized villains in Los Angeles. Like that would go unnoticed.

And for some of you, the addition of the adverb “finally” to that query? Totally unnecessary. Do you think I just go around committing haphazard crimes without any thought whatsoever? I mean, all the time? There was a time where a younger, more ignorant me would have rushed into an evil plot, but now? I have standards. These standards would be impossible for any of you to uphold, so don't even try to fathom them. And keep your cynical comments to yourselves.

To dispel the nasty rumors that have been circulating about me, let it be known that I'm quite alive, and very content in my current occupation (which – for those of you just joining today, as I see I've gotten some new followers despite all the death gossip – is essentially filling the hearts and minds of our disgustingly complacent society with terror, fueling the economic crisis, and conceptualizing devastating arms).

There have, uh. Been a couple of rough patches, sure. But nothing I can't conquer. Nope, there is absolutely nothing I can't completely dominate. Nothing at all ...

I suppose you're on the edge of your computer chairs about Plan B. Let me tell you, it's a good one. It was painstakingly crafted out of the innermost depths of my mind, and trust me, it will soon penetrate the innermost depths of yours. I've been thinking, though: why spoil the surprise? It'd be like knowing what your Christmas presents are before you have a chance to unwrap the paper (in this case, you can switch out the Christmas present simile with something more akin to the enslavement of the collective conscious mind of the city; however, if Christmas presents work for you, then that's completely fine by me, as I consider it something of a Christmas present to myself).

It's just not right. (The “knowing what your presents are” situation, not the whole enslavement thing ... I actually think that part's very right, if only because it's so not right.)

I have to contain myself in order not to give it away. If I gave it away, that would be ... not ... right.

Anyways, happy Friday to those of you poor saps who slave to the grind of a nine-to-five. I'll see you over the weekend, because villainy doesn't get days off. Ha ha ha ... !

Ciao,
Dr. Horrible